Redemption
by Raiast
Summary: Can sins ever be forgiven?  Can everyone find redemption?  At what cost?  Would you give your life for your redemption?


She'd never heard it before, a faint groaning coming from the wall next to her. She'd never heard it before, so, at first, she thought the silence was getting to her. That, or her sanity had been tortured right out of her. 

But when she was convinced that there was someone in a room next to her, Ginny scrambled over to the wall and rapped on it with the palm of her good hand. "Can—can you hear me?" her voice was raspy and her throat dry, so much so that all that came out at first was a weak croak.

She cleared her throat and swallowed hard. "Can you hear me?" she repeated a little louder. Better, but her throat was raw from screaming.

She waited, her breath held, staring intently at the stone, as if she might somehow be able to look through it. Her heart fell when she didn't receive a reply right away.

"I hear you," it was a soft, low muttering, weakened by the stone wall, but it reached Ginny's ears nonetheless.

Ginny's heart jumped. The only thing that separated her and human contact (for Ginny didn't consider the Death Eaters to be human) was the ancient stone wall that their prisons shared. Her fingers scratched at it feebly, as if the rock had weakened over time and would fall apart. She _had_ to get to the other side. She had to see that someone else was living this Hell with her. She had to know with her own two eyes that there was at least _one_ person still alive.

"Where are we? Do you know where we are?" she asked frantically, pounding on the wall with both hands. A flash a pain streaked through her right hand, and Ginny gasped. That's right. Right hand broken. Punishment for trying to fight off an over-friendly Death Eater. Ginny could hear a faint shuffling from the other side of the wall, and a louder voice. The occupant was likely moving over to the wall for better conversing.

"Malfoy Manor," the voice was low. Ginny couldn't tell if it was a man or woman, because hers didn't sound like her own to her anymore as well—torture had a funny way of doing that to you. "Are you from the Order?"

Ginny's heart gave a squeeze. Her stomach twisted. "Yes. I was captured on a rescue mission. Are _you_ a member?"

It must have been the stone wall, muffling and distorting sounds—Ginny thought she had heard a laugh.

"No. I'm not a member," the person said flatly. The voice sounded somewhat amused, perhaps they _had _been laughing. "Don't get your hopes up for a rescue, either, I'll tell you that now. Malfoy Manor is an impenetrable fortress," the voice sounded bitter, but held a quality of strength that Ginny had lost awhile back. She admired this person for staying strong when she couldn't. She never _was_ one for pain, and pain was most definitely something Death Eaters liked to give.

"How long have you been here?" Ginny asked. Surely she would have heard something coming from the next cell before then if it had been long.

"Couldn't say. Three weeks? Four? Who knows? Time has a way of passing differently down here in the dungeons—it's our biggest curse, I'd say."

Ginny frowned. _Time_ was their biggest curse? "Funny, I thought that was the Death Eaters," she replied after a bit. "Three weeks? I don't even know how long I've been here. I tried to keep track at first, but—"

"Don't bother with any of that. It's not as if we're getting out of here after a set number of days. As I said, time passes differently. Trying to keep track of it is pointless."

Ginny stared at the wall. A living, breathing human sat on the other side. And they had been there longer than she had.

"Are you sure you've been here that long?" Ginny questioned. "I—I haven't heard—"

"I try to keep my mouth shut. What's the point in screaming? It doesn't cause pity form, it doesn't stop the pain, so why do it?"

They didn't scream. She'd never heard them scream, and they claimed that they didn't, so Ginny deduced roughly that the other captive was male. "Who are you?" she asked after a minute of silence.

"Just someone that attempted to deviate from the social norm. You can see how well it worked out for me," his voice held sarcasm and irony. Ginny didn't quite understand why, but she wished that she were strong enough to be able to laugh at her mistakes such as he did. "Who are you?"

Ginny paused, thinking on that. _Who am I?_ He didn't want a name, she knew that much. "Just someone that attempted to fight for what she believes in," Ginny answered after a moment, mimicking his answer. "Obviously it didn't work out that well for me, either," funny, but Ginny almost felt like laughing with that statement. Didn't work out well, as if she hadn't made an idiotic mistake and as a result was captured and would eventually die.

He laughed, bitterly almost. "I guess not."

"What's your name?" Ginny asked, intensly intrigued by this person.

"What does it matter?" he shot back after a split-second of silence.

Ginny was taken aback. "It-it doesn't, I guess, I just--"

"It's a question of common courtesy, I understand that. But look around you, look where you are--common courtesy doesn't matter within these walls."

Ginny frowned. "Why won't you just tell me your name?"

"Why do you want to know it so badly?"

Ginny was distracted as the old wooden dishes in the corner were filled instantly with water and bread. She crawled over to them and brought them back to her corner, leaning against the wall they shared. "You'd think someone as rich as Malfoy would treat his guests a bit better, eh?" Ginny scoffed as she tore a piece of the dry bread off. "I mean, come on, riches galore and we get bread and water?"

There was a bit of shuffling on the other side. Ginny guessed that he had gone to get his food as well. When he returned to the wall, he replied. "Where are their manners?" he sighed sarcastically. "I agree. I think I might just demand some _fresh_ bread and _cold_ water after my next session of torture."

Ginny laughed softly, taking a sip of water. "Who knows, it might be a good escape plan—the Death Eater might actually have a heart attack at the suggestion."

"That or wet himself laughing," the boy added.

Ginny sighed. She wished she could just _see_ him. "Deviate from the social norm, eh? What's that mean?"

Silence met her, and after a moment he asked, "Never mind that. Bad joke. Tell me about the rescue mission. How'd you get caught?"

Ginny closed her eyes, chewing the dry bread thoroughly and taking a sip of water before answering. "It was a warehouse. They had four of our members, and we had to get them back. My first mission and I botched it all up," she mentally slapped herself yet again. "I wasn't even supposed to go—I'm just a Healer. I should have just waited to try to treat them when they got back."

"Healer, eh? Why _did_ you go?" he sounded quite intrigued.

Ginny sighed. "They had my brothers. The Order didn't want me to go with, but I was adamant on that—my brothers have been looking out for me all my life…it only seemed right that I be the one to go get them."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"Five—four," Ginny corrected herself, squeezing her eyes shut so no tears could settle there. "The second-born, a set of twins and the youngest, a year older than me. The eldest was killed not too long after the Death Eaters decided to make their activities public. The other…we don't quite know what happened to him."

Ginny tried to swallow the lump that lodged itself in her throat every time she thought about Bill's death. Talking about Percy was easier—_he_ might still be alive somewhere.

"I've lost family as well," the boy commented after a moment. "My mother."

Ginny's heart broke into a thousand pieces. She couldn't imagine not having her mother. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, not even sure if he could hear her. "How did it happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind," he said, pausing. "I saw it coming, I guess. She did too, I think, but neither of us did anything about it. I think we both kind of knew it was going to happen eventually. She was being uncharacteristically strong-willed, which is odd, because my mother had never been anything but a lamb looking for a shepherd. She became ill one day--continued on for about a month. Poisoned. She knew it was poison. I guess she figured she would rather die before all of this...became public, as you said. Before things got worse--for the both of us. She left me here, but I think it was because she didn't want to have to see me like this--didn't want to know it was happening, even though she did...she was selfish like that."

Ginny frowned. What kind of mother would leave her son in this world of chaos to face everything alone? "If the Order comes, I'll tell them to take you as well," Ginny offered after a moment.

"They aren't coming," the boy said shortly. "I already told you that. Stop fooling yourself, don't get your hopes up. It only hurts worse when they never show up."

Ginny's stomach gave a sharp twist. She knew the boy was right--she just couldn't stop herself from hoping that maybe, somehow, a valiant rescue party would show up and take her away. "I guess you're right," she sighed after a minute. "I just--"

"Can't stop hoping," the boy finished for her. "I know. It's best not to think about it."

"Then what is there to think about?" Ginny felt tears stinging her eyes. She didn't want to cry, though the boy wouldn't witness it if she did.

"What did you think about before you were captured?"

Ginny thought on that silently.

* * *

Running a hand through his hair, he listened as she screamed. He didn't blame her--he'd been on the receiving end of that particularily nasty curse before. 

He wanted to be out in the sun. He wanted to fly, wanted to run, wanted to breathe fresh air for the first time in over a month.

But he was locked away in a tiny 7 by 7 cell, suffocated by stone walls that closed him in. Locked away in his own dungeons. How embarrassing.

He wanted to confront his father, apologize for disgracing the family name and return to Voldemort's ranks, if he would still have him. He wanted to be strong and laugh during torture and spit in his father's face for ever _considering_ offering up his only son to the Dark Lord. But mostly he wanted to fly.

But he was locked away in a tiny cell, so he couldn't.

Instead, Draco Malfoy contented himself in listening to her scream.

* * *

Ginny was shaking. Her torturer had just left her, and she was in so much pain she could hardly move. She still felt the effects of the Cruciatus, her bones burning and turning to ash inside her. She pulled herself over to their wall--that's what she called it in her head, "our wall". It was something she shared with the boy in the next cell, it belonged to both of them. 

He must have heard her. "You still alive over there?"

"Barely," she rasped. Her throat burned from her recent screaming. She wished she had saved some of that water. "I wish they would just hurry up and kill me already."

"You don't mean that," he replied after a minute. "You wish that you did, but you don't."

Ginny sighed. "You're right."

"It's nice, in a way," he said after a few minutes of heavy silence.

"What's that?"

"Being here. Apart from the abuse and horrid conditions. They're keeping us alive to play with. They're giving us time. If we were out there, the both of us might have died by now. Think about it."

And Ginny _did_ think about it. She thought about it a lot. _Giving us time?_

"All we have now is time," the boy said to her silence.

"Who are you?" Ginny asked him. She needed a name, anything. She had to know who this person was.

"We've been over this," was all he said.

"Give me your name. I need a name."

"Give me yours," he rebutted.

Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Once I was a Healer. A girl. I had a family, a life. They used to call me Ginny. Ginny Weasley."

A moment of silence, and then: "And what are you now?"

"They've taken all that away. Now I'm an animal, caged in this little box for them to amuse themselves with. I don't have a name anymore. They took it from me," Ginny put her hand to the stone, desperate to reach into the next cell for some human contact. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and low. "Have they taken yours as well?"

"They try," he answered softly. "But I won't let them. I have ties to this place, this life. Ties that can't be broken by torture or even death. Weasley, huh? I knew a Weasley once. Knew you, as well, though not quite so much as your brother. Do you know who I am, Ginny?"

Her breath was shaky, her body numb from disbelief. "I'm beginning to believe I do."

"Oh? Who am I?"

Her hand pushed harder against the stone, as if she might actually be able to move it. "Draco Malfoy?"

"I was," was all he said.

"I thought you still were," Ginny responded, calling upon the last few minutes of their conversation. "I thought you said you wouldn't let them take it."

"My name I still have, that's true. But who I am...who I _was_--"

"A prat," Ginny interrupted, recalling on their Hogwarts days. Had she really only been out for a year now? It felt like ages ago. "An evil, ruthless git."

"Rich, powerful, one of Voldemort's youngest and most-trusted followers," he continued. "And now? I don't know what I am now."

"Human," Ginny supplied after a minute. "You've finally become human."

A short laugh. "Have I? When did that happen?"

Ginny didn't respond to that, because she had no idea how to. Instead, she asked the question that had been running through her mind ever since she began to suspect that it might be Draco Malfoy trapped in the next cell. "How did you get here?"

"That doesn't much matter, does it? What matters is that I am here, and you are here, and only _you_ should be here."

Ginny went cold inside, the slight connection she had felt with him suddenly butchered by his harsh words. "I don't think either of us should be here," Ginny replied.

"I won't be. Not for much longer," he answered after a minute.

Her insides felt frozen now. Did they mean to kill him? Did he know this? How? "What do you mean?" Ginny asked softly.

"I've requested to speak to my father. He should be in tomorrow. I'm going to redeem myself...somehow," he added the last word softly, as if the idea seemed impossible to him.

"You can't!" Ginny cried, throwing her hand against the wall as if to gain more of his attention. "You can't! You're human now! You're HUMAN!"

She could tell already that her cries fell upon death ears. Leave it to Malfoy to make her feel even more pitiful and helpless than she already did.

"Think about what got you here in the first place! 'Deviating from the social norm'? You didn't want that life and that's okay, you shouldn't have to live like that," Ginny felt close to tears. "Think about what you're doing. Is that really what you want?"

There was no answer from the next cell.

* * *

The wall shimmered as a body passed through it, but Ginny didn't witness it. She was sitting in the corner, as far away from "their wall" as she could be, with her knees drawn to her chest and her face tucked down. Three days had passed since Draco Malfoy had turned his back on his beliefs and gave in to his father. Three meals of stale bread and warm water. Three nights of pity and despair ripping through her soul.

The sound of feet shuffling on stone reached her ears, and Ginny looked up to find Malfoy standing over her. "Oh, this is rich," she scoffed quietly to herself. "Is this it? Torturing me? Is that your redemption?"

"I didn't betray you," he replied softly. "I didn't betray myself. Yes, I went back. Yes, I killed to make it up to the Dark Lord. But you don't understand why."

"Couldn't stand living in your own dungeon anymore, huh? Too embarrasssing for you? Got sick of not having everything handed to you on a silver platter by a ragged old house elf?"

"Stand up," was all he said to that.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "No."

"Now, or I'll drag you up."

The only move Ginny made was to turn away from him and face the wall. A small cry of surprise left her throat as she was pulled upwards by her hair. Malfoy pushed her against the wall.

"Listen to me," he hissed. "I'm trying to help you."

Ginny stared at him, wondering if she'd heard him right. She was afraid if she asked him to repeat it, she would only find that her mind was playing tricks with her. ...or he was.

"I don't know where your wand is," he informed her, digging into the pocket of his robes. "But you can have this," he tossed something at her.

A slinky, cool fabric slid through her fingers. Ginny realized with a start that it was an Invisibility Cloak. "You...you aren't shitting me," she stared at him, holding the cloak close to her. She frowned. This didn't make sense. "No," she shook her head, eyes narrowing "What is this?"

He looked at her as if he himself were trying to figure that out. "My redemption," he said at last. Ginny stared at him. "Just put the cloak on and follow me."

Ginny did as she was told, making sure that she was entirely covered up. Somehow, Malfoy found her hand with ease, despite her being invisible. He explained that she couldn't pass through the walls unless she had the mark, or was making contact with a Death Eater. He led her through many dark hallways, until they made a final turn. There, at the end of the hallway, was the back door out of Malfoy Manor.

They were less than ten feet away when a familiar voice sounded behind them.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing something, Draco?" Lucius Malfoy was sauntering slowly towards them. Ginny glanced over; Draco looked nervous.

"Keep going," he breathed to her as his father approached. "Very slowly."

"What are you doing down here?" his father continued questioning him as he grew closer and closer to them.

Ginny took a small step backwards. Then another. The taste of freedom was so strong in her mouth that Ginny had to focus all of her concentration on not breaking out into a dead run. Another step back and then she was flooded with the feeling of deja vu. One stupid mistake had gotten her into this mess in the first place; one stupid slip up. And now she had made yet another fatal mistake: she was so concerned with keeping her eyes on Lucius Malfoy to make sure that he didn't know she was there that she was attempting to finish off her escape by walking backwards.

It was the suit of armor. It _had _to have known it was there and moved its foot just to make her trip. Ginny fell to the ground, cloak falling off of her as she landed.

"What is this?" Lucius snarled.

Draco spun around. "What are you doing? RUN!"

And Ginny did. She scrambled to her feet and forced her legs to move as fast as they could. She reached the door and wretched it open just in time to hear two spells shouted simultaneously. She didn't stop to see whose had hit who. She didn't even let herself enjoy her first taste of fresh air in what felt like an eternity. She just kept running until she had passed through the woods that resided behind Malfoy Manor and into the neighboring town.

It was a Wizarding town. She could tell just from looking at it. Taking a deep breath, she kept walking. She could rest when she found a fireplace to use.

* * *

She found his name in the paper two days later; one of many names on the Recently Deceased list that the Daily Prophet insisted on posting. Many of the names were just that: names. A few of them had brief descriptions of how they died: their heroics. Ginny didn't know who had reported it. She had hoped that somehow he had found a way to escape as well. Instead, he had probably gone back and died in the dungeons that he himself had just escaped. That was where he said his last words, took his last breath, died. For her.

"Is it in there?" Ron asked as he stepped into the kitchen. Ginny nodded. "Read it."

_Draco Malfoy - Killed while helping a fellow prisoner escape_

She looked out the kitchen window to the pink and orange horizon in the east. She liked the way it was worded. Killed while helping a _fellow_ prisoner. Because even though he begged forgiveness and killed to be accepted once again, he had still remained a prisoner.

_You're free now_, Ginny thought as she gave a small sigh._ You're free_.


End file.
